First offer incense; then, thy field and meadsShall smile and smell the better by thy beads.The spangling dew dredged o’er the grass shall beTurn’d all to mell and manna there for thee.Butter of amber, cream, and wine, and oil,Shall run as rivers all throughout thy soil.Would’st thou to sincere silver turn thy mould?–Pray once, twice […]

Here a pretty baby liesSung asleep with lullabies;Pray be silent, and not stirTh’ easy earth that covers her.

Here she lies, a pretty bud,Lately made of flesh and blood;Who as soon fell fast asleep,As her little eyes did peep.–Give her strewings, but not stirThe earth, that lightly covers her.

Why, Madam, will ye longer weep,Whenas your baby’s lull’d asleep?And, pretty child, feels now no moreThose pains it lately felt before. All now is silent; groans are fled;Your child lies still, yet is not dead,But rather like a flower hid here,To spring again another year.

Here a solemn fast we keep,While all beauty lies asleep;Hush’d be all things, no noise hereBut the toning of a tear;Or a sigh of such as bringCowslips for her covering.

Virgins promised when I died,That they would each primrose-tideDuly, morn and evening, come,And with flowers dress my tomb.–Having promised, pay your debtsMaids, and here strew violets.

When I consider, dearest, thou dost stayBut here awhile, to languish and decay;Like to these garden glories, which here beThe flowery-sweet resemblances of thee:With grief of heart, methinks, I thus do cry,Would thou hadst ne’er been born, or might’st not die!

First, for effusions due unto the dead,My solemn vows have here accomplished;Next, how I love thee, that my grief must tell,Wherein thou liv’st for ever.–Dear, farewell!

Come pity us, all ye who seeOur harps hung on the willow-tree;Come pity us, ye passers-by,Who see or hear poor widows’ cry;Come pity us, and bring your earsAnd eyes to pity widows’ tears.CHOR. And when you are come hither,Then we will keepA fast, and weepOur eyes out all together, For Tabitha; who dead lies here,Clean […]

O thou, the wonder of all days!O paragon, and pearl of praise!O Virgin-martyr, ever blestAbove the restOf all the maiden-train! We come,And bring fresh strewings to thy tomb. Thus, thus, and thus, we compass roundThy harmless and unhaunted ground;And as we sing thy dirge, we willThe daffadil,And other flowers, lay uponThe altar of our love, […]

Here she lies, in bed of spice,Fair as Eve in paradise;For her beauty, it was such,Poets could not praise too much.Virgins come, and in a ringHer supremest REQUIEM sing;Then depart, but see ye treadLightly, lightly o’er the dead.

In numbers, and but these few,I sing thy birth, oh JESU!Thou pretty Baby, born here,With sup’rabundant scorn here;Who for thy princely port here,Hadst for thy placeOf birth, a baseOut-stable for thy court here. Instead of neat enclosuresOf interwoven osiers;Instead of fragrant posiesOf daffadils and roses,Thy cradle, kingly stranger,As gospel tells,Was nothing else,But, here, a homely […]

Open thy gatesTo him who weeping waits,And might come in,But that held back by sin.Let mercy beSo kind, to set me free,And I will straightCome in, or force the gate.

Can I not sin, but thou wilt beMy private protonotary?Can I not woo thee, to pass byA short and sweet iniquity?I’ll cast a mist and cloud uponMy delicate transgression,So utter dark, as that no eyeShall see the hugg’d impiety.Gifts blind the wise, and bribes do pleaseAnd wind all other witnesses;And wilt not thou with gold […]

Bell-man of night, if I about shall goFor to deny my Master, do thou crow!Thou stop’st Saint Peter in the midst of sin;Stay me, by crowing, ere I do begin;Better it is, premonish’d, for to shunA sin, than fall to weeping when ’tis done.

O earth! earth! earth! hear thou my voice, and beLoving and gentle for to cover me!Banish’d from thee I live;–ne’er to return,Unless thou giv’st my small remains an urn.

Give me a cellTo dwell,Where no foot hathA path;There will I spend,And end,My wearied yearsIn tears.

I’ll write no more of love, but now repentOf all those times that I in it have spent.I’ll write no more of life, but wish ’twas ended,And that my dust was to the earth commended.

Night hath no wings to him that cannot sleep;And Time seems then not for to fly, but creep;Slowly her chariot drives, as if that sheHad broke her wheel, or crack’d her axletree.Just so it is with me, who list’ning, prayThe winds to blow the tedious night away,That I might see the cheerful peeping day.Sick is […]

In the hour of my distress,When temptations me oppress,And when I my sins confess,Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When I lie within my bed,Sick in heart, and sick in head,And with doubts discomforted,Sweet Spirit, comfort me! When the house doth sigh and weep,And the world is drown’d in sleep,Yet mine eyes the watch do keep,Sweet Spirit, […]